


The Way He Looked At You

by greenteatrashbaby



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, M/M, Netflix and Chill, SO FLUFFY
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-15 03:52:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12313230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenteatrashbaby/pseuds/greenteatrashbaby
Summary: There were so many things that made your heart flutter, and the way he looked at you was up there on the list.





	The Way He Looked At You

Jon had this way of looking at you. Like you were a celestial being among mortals, gifting him with your presence - unworthy and gracious. Like you were the moonlight streaming through the leaves, and he was a moonflower, drinking in as much of you as he could before you disappeared - adoring and needy. Like a cowboy watches the horizon as he rides into the sunset - determined and brooding. He looked at you like Steve Trevor looks at Diana - in awe and in love.

Whenever you caught him looking at you, he would let a smile slowly creep its way onto his face, but never broke his stare. He looked at you like he had nothing else in the world he needed to do. Like his leisure time was best spent just examining your features.

You had his kids for the weekend, and the four of you were crowded around the kitchen counter, excitedly poking at homemade slime. You quickly realized, however, that you were watching the girls play with their new purple and sparkly toy. Jon was watching you, chin in his palm and elbow on the counter, a smile plastered on his face. And, as usual, you catching him didn’t stop him. He wasn’t even particularly looking you in the eyes, but studying your face instead, his eyes running over you like he was a portrait artist, and he was about to be told that he had to draw you from memory. You wondered how many times he could look at you so intently before he ran out of things to see.

After bed time stories were read and lights were shut off, it was your favorite time of the night. Obscure Netflix and chill movie time. Because it was finally October, this meant you were restricted to the Horror genre tab, which included plenty of movies that didn’t look like horror at all. You had selected the film this weekend, and you were very excited to see what Trollhunters had in store for you two.

You were sat in bed, cross legged and intently watching as several Norwegian college kids ran around a forest. Jon was slightly behind you, leaning against pillows that were stacked up on the headboard, an arm hooked around your hip. You reached over to the nightstand to grab your water bottle and took a swig, then copped a look at Jon. Again, he had been carefully appraising your profile, and you sighed.

“This movie’s in Norwegian, dude. You gotta read the subtitles.”

“I don’t  _ gotta _ ,” he said, a smug smile crossing his lips. “Am I not allowed to take breaks from the movie?”

You eyed him, but you both knew he had a monopoly on giving looks. “Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Look at me like you’ll never see me again.”

“Because you are perfect and I enjoy looking at perfection.”

You squinted at him. You had seen enough pictures of yourself to know that wasn’t true - your eyebrows were uneven no matter how hard you try, your lips were weirdly proportioned, nose too wide, cheeks too puffy, eyes slightly off, remnants of acne scars in annoyingly visible places… You could really go on forever.

Jon, on the other hand, was the most beautiful creature you had ever laid eyes on. He had these incredible pearly whites that shined from behind his playful, crooked smile. These deep blue eyes that sometimes came across a wonderful emerald, and that, when the light caught them just right, burned like blue flames and made you shiver. This glorious hair that curled just so, falling to his shoulders like a babbling brook, framing his face like a painting. These absolutely delicious freckles, peppered all over the perimeter of his forehead and across his cheeks and nose, but those were a treat you only got to see after hikes on particularly sunny days. There was nothing about Jon you didn’t love to look at. And his personality was pretty damn good, too.

You wondered, suddenly, if this was how he saw you. If he had poetry filling his mind as he gazed at you so intently and so often, thinking about how absolutely perfect your imperfections were. If he saw your asymmetry as true art, and described it as such. If he wondered, as often as you did, how the hell he managed to fish upwards in the food chain and lock down someone who was so clearly out of his league. 

“What?” He said, laughing at the face you didn’t realize you were making. “Am I not allowed to find you the most stunning a person can be?”

“No,” you mumbled.

You felt his thumb tracing circles around your hip. “Well, I do.” He grinned. “Whether we’re sitting in bed watching weird foreign films or you’re dressed to the nines for some party, you are absolutely, unequivocally, and unquestionably the most magnificent human on this damn planet.”

“That can’t be right,” you said, looking back at the TV. “Unless you’re not human.”

“Then I’m not human,” he declared, making you giggle. “If that’s what it takes to make me right about how fucking gorgeous you are, I will gladly switch genus.”

And then he kissed you.

Jon had this way of kissing you that made you think his life depended on it. He kissed you like you were in the final scene of an apocalyptic movie and he had come to terms that this was the end. He kissed you like he was Ryan Gosling and you were Rachel McAdams, and this was the only way he could express how much he needed you. Like he knew that if your lips left his, his heart would stop beating. Like he could stop time as long as he kissed you, and he wasn’t ready to say good night.

And lord, did it make you melt.

**Author's Note:**

> watch me write a jon risinger fanfic every week on october. fucking WATCH ME


End file.
